


Heat Within

by KingMeghren



Category: Vermintide, Warhammer - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fire, Krubernasus, Mentions Victor Saltzpyre a Bit, Not Beta Read, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 21:24:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingMeghren/pseuds/KingMeghren
Summary: A quiet moment within the Red Moon Inn leads to revelations of a far more intimate kind.





	Heat Within

Saltzpyre had told him to stay put in the Red Moon Inn, watching over Sienna because he clearly didn’t trust the wizard, even after all she had done for the group. Still, his words were different to his actions. When they had been out slaughtering their way through hordes of ratmen, he had made sure that all of his comrades were accounted for. Even if they didn’t care for the witch hunter, they still came to an easy truce and welcomed when it came to healing potions and the sort. At least she wasn’t in handcuffs anymore.

Markus, however, was always to choose his side. Unless the man had done something abhorrently wrong, in which case a markedly polite reminder was given. Victor was paying him for this after all.

Though, he wasn’t as strict as Victor was. He wasn’t Sienna’s jailor, so much as he was her guard. Whether or not he was on her side or not didn’t matter, he was being paid to escort her safely to her trial. That being said, she had done them a lot of good, and she was admittedly becoming someone he didn’t want to see hanged. Whether or not there would be a trial with the state Ubersreik was in was another matter entirely.

It wouldn’t be so quiet if they hadn’t the Red Moon to themselves. Lohner having already gone somewhere unknown, with the contacts he had it was hard to place the man in one spot. That was of course, if he wasn’t minding his inn.

So, he sat idly waiting for them to return. Not exactly watching with the keen eye of Victor Saltzpyre, but still watching. Sienna was beside the forge, her fingers tickling the flames into rising tendrils, only to have them spark and scatter into little flecks of burning ash.

Magic was a sore spot for Markus, it wasn’t something he had told their ragtag group, but it was something they’d picked up on already. Necromancy still chills his bones, and he’d admit that if Sienna was a necromancer and not a bright wizard they’d have an entirely different relationship. Which is to say, none at all. But, he had seen the extent of Sienna’s flame magic, not the kind that would leave her exhausted and overcharged, but near enough.

He wasn’t as afraid of her magic. Even if he knew that she could burn him into a pile of blacked ash, he could still quarter her with a few swings of his sword. Not that Markus had ever imagined it, they were far too friendly for that. Far too friendly.

“Something on your mind, Kruber?” She says, turning to face him but keeping her hand alight. Sienna could make fire dance to whatever tune she pleased, whether it was lighting candles with a pinch of her fingers or melting a rat ogre into a charred puddle. The power she possessed was immeasurable, and her battle skills had only grown since they had met.

“It’s quiet isn’t it?” Markus sniffs, “apart from the vermin out there I mean.” They still skittered around in the streets. No matter how many times they had cleared out the waterfront the beasts still managed to find a way back. Blasted things, it’s unsettling how often their footsteps fade into the background to fall upon unaware ears.

“Don’t tell me you’re missing Victor’s prattle?” Sienna snorts, her hands trailing smoke as she sits down opposite him. She was beautiful up close, and far away, and the power she commanded did nothing but improve upon her. Age and fatigue had crept into her features, no more than they had to Markus’ own, she had less scars and her hair still had colour. The parts that weren’t alit with flame. He didn’t know how she slept with that; for the first few nights he was afraid she’d burn down the inn. Accidentally or intentionally had been the question back then.

“I’m more worried the waywatcher would have shot him by now.” He laughs half-heartedly.

“He wouldn’t see me go without a trial, he’d fight tooth and nail to see me hanged.” She says it with a light tone even if her meaning is grim. “A stake can only work in my favour.”

“I reckon you’ve earned a bit of leniency, every roast rat in a tally in your favour.” Markus admits honestly. She’s saved his life more than he can count and he can only hope that the favour had been returned.

“Fighting my corner now, Kruber?” Sienna grins, the flames in her hair seemingly jumping at the words. She had a good smile, teeth that weren’t broken like his from being hit in the face too often, her lips were plump despite her mouth being thin, and the grooves in her face deepened honestly and cast subtle shadows across her features. It wasn’t anything compared to the madness he could see in her face at a particularly good rat kill. That had beauty in it too.

“I think we’re fighting the only corner we’ve got.” Markus tries to derail the conversation with his truths. What he felt for Sienna, a clichéd, but very obvious, ember that had kindled with every adrenaline filled moment. Perhaps that is why Lohner had gone, the innkeeper had a way of knowing everything, and he might have just given them the time alone that Markus had desired.

“Even if that is with Saltzpyre.” She laughs again.

“Even so.” He huffs quietly. The man was righteous and pious in his actions, they couldn’t blame him. Witch hunters were known to be as such, and Victor was one of the more lenient ones. The conversation ends there, and it’s a contented silence that falls upon them.

Markus wasn’t the kind of man who ever hid his stares well. It had gotten him into trouble many times before, he was a soldier, not a spy. Sienna had the oddest eyes, not that of a natural colour, but of the colour of burning embers. In the throes of battle her eyes would burn with a blazing light, as would runes and scripture appear across her skin of a similar brightness. She encompassed all that fire was, brilliantly burning, bounding through countless beasts, a force that was borderline unstoppable. She excelled in ways that cut into Markus in ways he would rather they not, and ways that would give him thoughts that would heat his gut so pleasantly.

“You’re staring, Soldier.” She says, a sculpted brow raising high upon her forehead.

“Sorry.”

“Nonsense, continue all you like.” She quips. “You don’t have that judging stare that Saltzpyre has, and, I haven’t had a man look at me like that in a long time.” She stands as she says it, summoning a heat to her palm and leaning her hips against the table.

“Beg pardon?” Shit, Markus thinks looking up at her, _shit_.

“The contracts I used to take, the men wouldn’t look at me as if I were a woman. I was fire, a means of an end.” She beams, proud of her appearance and the power and fear she could invoke. “ _Old_.” She adds almost bitterly, smothering the flames with a clench of her fist.

“Sorry.” He apologises again, for lack of anything to say. Complimenting her now would be too much of an indication that he felt more than just a paid guard to her.

“You’re a handsome man, Kruber.” Sienna whispers, her words barely there. Her hand, still warm from the extinguished flame, lays upon Markus’, careful not to singe the carefully painted map beneath them.

“Old.” He interjects quickly, biting his tongue.

“An old handsome man, Kruber.” She adds with a barely concealed roll of her eyes. “I can’t say the staring has been entirely one sided.”

Markus might have been the kind of person unable to hide his amorous stares, but Sienna most definitely was not. He could only swallow through the thickness in his throat, feeling heat simmering in his gut, and the drought upon his tongue. Sienna Fuegonasus, bright wizard, a flame to which Markus was being drawn into ineffably. She would burn through him, scorch into his very skin. Doubtless, he knew, doubtless he would let her.

He stands on legs that he wills not to shake; magic made him nervous, Sienna made him nervous. Both wildly different things and yet the feeling was all the same. Markus swallows again, hiding the ripple in his throat by hanging his head if only for a moment. A slow inhale, filling his lungs with the slightest hint of burnt air, a smell that lingered around Sienna and didn’t warrant pause.

They only stood an inch of two of difference in height. Markus wasn’t so tall of a man and Sienna had never been the shortest of women. He cupped her face gently, as if she was so fragile that a single press would shatter her. His thumbs ran the width of her cheekbones, gazing at her as if she were the sun. The flames in her hair flared the slightest bit brighter, flickering with her pulse as he leaned in closer. He was slow, making sure to give her every opportunity to resist, to say no. But she held her tongue and pursed her lips, leaning just that ever bit up to capture his kiss.

His moustache tickled her skin, and yet it pulled nothing from the experience. Sienna’s lips were painted with only the fairest bit of colour, it made them softer, suppler, and would be bruised by the chapped lips of Markus Kruber. She kisses him the slightest bit harder, her own hands previously limp by her side, pressed gently around his waist. He could feel the heat from her palms through the fabric of his shirts, and he wondered if she was burning so purposefully.

“If this is what you want-” Markus began as he pulled an inch away. He was supposed to be her guard, to keep her from running away, this was not entirely the best course of action if he wanted to keep his job. But she was worth more than that.

“It is.” Sienna chased him with another kiss, her hands gliding up his torso and curling around his neck. She pulled him into her, taking a step forward to press herself against him. They hadn’t worn their armour today, they hadn’t needed to, and it left nothing but fabrics and cloth between them.

“Upstairs?” He mumbled against her lips, feeling his entire body warm to her.

“Upstairs.” She agreed, taking no great pleasure in pulling away from the soldier, yet knowing what greater pleasure lay ahead it was a worthy sacrifice to make.

It would only be a matter of whose room to choose. Sienna’s room was closer, but it was littered with kindling and smelt of ash and smoke. Markus’ room was clean to a soldier’s standard, small primitively carved objects to one side belying of the man’s creative nature, his shield on the wall alongside his repeater handgun. The room smelt faintly of armour polish and metal, almost acrid to the senses, but it was forgotten.

Sienna carefully lit the candles one by one, leaving Marcus to watch her ignite the wicks with a gentleness so far from what he saw on the battlefield. There was no natural light to filter in even if it was the middle of the day, the windows had been boarded up to deny the skaven any view. It gave them a privacy that Markus hadn’t thought of needing in this way before.

Markus felt cold without her heat against him, he stood within the doorframe as if waiting for permission to enter his own space. This was all such uncommon ground, and yet, he desired to be in there, with her and only her. He took the hand she offered him, closed the door with the heel of his boot. The sound of it shutting sounded so final. Both of them had toed themselves over a line that could be forgotten, though not uncrossed. But it didn’t matter. Sienna’s warmth returned to him and he kissed her with a growing passion. For the first time in a long time, Sienna felt more like a woman than a flame.

She kissed him back with vigour, the flames in her hair scalding with her rushed heartbeat. Tasting the ale that Markus had drank and the food they had eaten. He tasted sweet, almost addictively so. His hands, the strong hands of a soldier who spent half of his life gripping the hilt of a sword, curled about her waist. Sienna pushed at them with her own, pressing them closer to the curve of his hips, and pressing her hips closer to that of Markus’ own. She was leading this dance and they both knew it, and Markus gave in without pause.

Her hands wandered the length of his torso, feeling the strength in his gut even through his clothes. She pulled of her gloves with a quick tug, folding them and throwing them behind her. Markus moaned to feel that heated skin upon his neck, the flames beneath her fingers tips warming him from within. Their kisses grew heavier, open mouthed and louder. Tongues pressed against each other with passion, their breaths mingling, and their desires intertwined.

Markus untucks his shirt from his trousers, pulling at the ties which keep it closed before stepping back to tug it quickly over his head. He fumbles with the cuffs and the leather bands which he has secured around one arm before he can throw the garment away. Sienna’s grin is intoxicating, her eyes blackened with desire and she stares at his half naked form. Hairs tickled his chest, greyed like the rest of him, curling down his stomach and below the waist of his trousers. Scars were to be found upon him, one that matched the line that cleaved his chin in two unequal pieces, a few scars from piercing bullets or bolts, something of a surgical line beside his rib. She trailed them with burning fingers, and felt Markus press his chest into the sensation.

Sienna pushed him to sit on the bed, kissing him with a silent promise upon her lips and she toed of her boots. It prompted Markus to do the same, throwing them carelessly across the room, and watching her with half lidded eyes. She slipped her hands under the length of her robe, pulling at the ties which held her trousers tight, and let them fall around her ankles.

Her legs were stunning, pale and long. Most of the hair had been singed away, burnt and unwilling to grow back. But there were patches of thin black which held on, breaking the monotony in a cascading beauty. Markus reached out for her and she took his hands again, leaning her weight into his palms for balance as she sat across his lap. He wished he had shrugged himself from his own trousers, desperate the feel the warmth of her naked thighs across his own.

They kiss again. Sienna’s hands hot across Markus’ partially shaved scalp, running through the length that he keeps neat upon his head, tugging him backwards with a desire to kiss him deeper. He grunts at the minor pain, groaning when her hips roll upon his. Markus guides a hand tentatively up to her breast, cupping it through her robe and squeezing so gently. She grips his fingers to push harder, her own breath catching in her throat when his other hand pulls their hips closer. Between them she can feel the press of his cock beneath his clothes, and her body tighten with lust.

His hand slips between the slits in her robe, finding the soft fabric of her underthings. There’s a questioning grunt that falls from his lips, and a resounding approval in the breath of her tongue. Markus’ fingers pry underneath, over the swell of her arse, and he grips her tightly. Another moan is pulled from her lungs. She spreads her thighs wider, pressing her sex closer against his.

“Sienna.” He murmurs, kissing across her neck and down to her collarbone. He noses the shoulder of her dress down, tasting more of her skin with his tongue. Markus moans his desire out, muffled against her body as she pulls him closer. She can feel his teeth against her, nipping at her, though nary strong enough to leave any marks.

For all the fire within her she feels herself burning delightfully. Though with the desire and the fabric of her robes she finds it almost stifling. Sienna gathers the cloth until she finds the hem, pulling at it from her waist and twisting it over her head until she is free from the confines of it. Her chest is bare in front of Markus, and he lets out a whine of desire, biting his lower lip and sucking it into his mouth.

“Markus.” She whispers, her hand returning to cradle the back of his head. Their kiss is almost chaste before he curls himself against her breasts, tasting the valley between them. Sienna moans wordlessly at the touch of his tongue. One hand cups her own breast, her palm gracing it harshly. He bites at her fingers until they splay apart, and he can take the swell of her nipple into his mouth. His tongue is dexterous beyond words, it works with his teeth and his lips, to bring her to bud in his mouth.

She holds the back of his head, her fingers entwining in the strands and pressing him closer. Sienna burns within his grasp, her hips rolling and meeting with his own with every movement. The pace is something they work at, and he follows Sienna’s movements loyally, kissing her where she wants him to and never overreaching.

Markus’ hands, gripping her body so tightly that he fears she will bruise and removed swiftly. He needs to be without the clothes the deny them such intimacy, and it’s awkward to shuffle them down to his knees where he can readily wriggle them off. His underthings go with them, kicked into a pile for them to deal with later. Markus pulls her flush against him once more, and she groans at the heat of his cock. His own burning fire. It cannot match the pulsing heat that is Sienna, but there is nothing quite else like Markus’ own flames dancing with her own. Together they are a wildfire that neither wishes to extinguish.

She presses one hand down beneath her underthings, standing up on her knees to separate her lower lips and press into her sex. She spreads her wetness with a finger, through the valleys and cervices of her cunt, unsurprised at how damp she has gotten. Markus had done nothing but fan the flames within her, and she wants to burn above him. She holds the cloth to one side, unwilling to step away to take them off, and presses against Markus.

He groans wildly and open mouthed against Sienna’s breast. The head of his cock slick with her as she guides it between her folds. He doesn’t press into her, rather feels her lips encompass him, drowning him in flames.

“Please.” He gasps, burying his head into her shoulder and whimpering at the sensation. She teased him so cruelly, his cock heavy and leaking against her sex. They have to manoeuvre further back upon his bed so that they might find the right angle. Markus sits with his back against the wall and his legs bent at the knee so his feet my find purchase. Sienna remains astride him, standing on her knees and she lowers herself upon his cock.

It slips once, twice, before Markus huffs out his laughter and grabs his cock to guide it within her. She takes it slowly, the head at first, already feeling the beginning pulses of her orgasm inside herself. Markus can feel it to for the way his eyes flutter closed before he forces them to open, to watch as Sienna lowers her hips fully.

It is almost perfect, the feeling of being full for the first time since they had started. The slide of his cock inside of her where it had never been before. She arches her body and throws her head back, her moans silent with a minor euphoria as she sits there, a wave of pleasure rising in her gut. She can hear Markus murmuring something, yet not clearly enough over the pounding in her ears, and she presses herself fully against him.

He moans, much louder than her. One hand grips at his thigh, tight to stave off too much pleasure, the other curls around the back of her neck. He brings her into a loose kiss, open mouthed and barely there. The kiss loses all sense of being anything when she rolls her hips, rising slowing and descending into an arch. His hand leaves his thigh, the pressure doing nothing, and he wets the pad of his thumb with a swipe of his tongue. It dips between the lips of her sex, pressing unsurely until it is guided by Sienna’s moans to her clit.

Her thighs twitch with every few circles drawn upon her, more and more often as he increases the pace and changes his direction. She rolls her hips until her movements become erratic. Markus can barely keep up with the barely there thrusting that he can do with his position. But it doesn’t matter because Sienna throws her head back in a wail of pleasure, her inner walls constricting around him repeatedly with her rapid pulse. Markus moans into her chest and bites into his own tongue, his hips rapidly twitching until his own orgasm falls upon him. Groaning Sienna’s name as he continues to thrust within her.

She rides him as long as he can stay rigid, his thumb circling he clit to bring her to the beginnings of a second orgasm before he is too soft to continue. Sienna pushes his hand away, instead, taking the fingers into her mouth and sucking the wetness from them. His moans are pitiful, whimpering things, but his throat is dry and his lungs are heaving.

“Sigmar have mercy.” He huffs, leaning his head back against the wall, and letting her rest into the crook of his neck. She laughs silently at his prayer, her short nails drawing absent lines across his chest. Markus rests his palms against her lower back, rubbing them in slow circles and warming the fires upon her back. He kisses the side of her forehead gently, reaching down to pull his softened cock from within her, and then lifts her chin to kiss him.

It was tender, and loving, and it made Sienna feel more woman than flame. Their bliss melted the world around them away. For the moment there were no rat men in Ubersreik, the threat of their comrades returning was abandoned, and they forgot entirely about the fury that would be Saltzpyre upon his arrival.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
